Starry, Starry Nights
by GKingOfFez
Summary: On Iris, Tucker finds a little peace in looking at the stars. Tuckercentric, side of Tuckington. /For the RvB Secret Santa 2018 on Tumblr.


_Written for bizarrebird for the 2018 RvB Secret Santa on Tumblr, who requested Tucker fluff, on Iris with a side of Tuckington. Have a Merry Christmas and/or happy holiday season everyone, and thanks for reading my work this year!_

* * *

Only after the Chorus contingent has flown away and the initial hubbub of excited exploring has died down a bit, can Tucker finally slip away for a moment of motherfucking peace.

He climbed to the roof of the brand new Blue base and took a 360 survey of the landscape surrounding their new home.

It was fucking _beautiful_ , so far removed from the grimey Armonia cityscape, the hellish heat of temple or even Blood Gulch's lifeless desert canyon. Mountains rose up in the distance, blue peaks with rocky cliffs and greenish yellow grass spread out before them. Several armoured figures were darting about near the shore of the giant blue lake in the centre of it all, including a bird-chasing Caboose and Donut, and a pair of helmetless ex- Freelancers.

Wash's ass looked particularly muscular from a distance.

Overall, it was different to any moon Tucker had even been to, more like the pictures of New Zealand from before global warming had fucked up nature's shit than the dusty, unoccupied parts of Earth's moon, or even the teeming jungle moon Endor from Star Wars.

It was pretty and picturesque and nice and just... good.

They deserved a break, and a beautiful place to relax in, and hopefully not fuck up too much (Sarge had already been talking about setting up perimeter mines and homing rockets, which could only end badly).

They needed some time away from the rest of the galaxy, without traumatising separation, civil wars, asshole mercenaries and all that general soldier bullshit getting in the way of what they did best- standing around and talking.

This was what they'd been promised when they boarded that ship back to _Blood Gulch_ oh so long ago, and damnit was Tucker gonna take every advantage he could while it lasted.

The dusk arrived, and then gave way to evening as Tucker sat there. Caboose had fallen into the lake, shed his armour and rolled around in the grass in the interim, while Wash and Carolina had long since retreated inside.

Tucker sat and looked up to the sky and the stars. They were different from the ones over Chorus or Earth or Blood Gulch or anywhere else, which was another good thing. New stars, new chances, new beginnings for all.

He has a moment of utter peace before he falls asleep.

* * *

"The stars are different, aren't they?"

There was a beat of silence in the cool evening air.

"...Are you being serious right now?" asked Wash. "Tucker, you do realise we're in an entirely different star system now, right?"

Tucker scoffed indignantly. "I'm not an idiot, dude, I was just pointing out that- you know what, nevermind."

Wash rustled on the grass beside him, obviously thinking. There was a pause

"No, I get what you mean. It always takes a while for your brain to adjust to new patterns and environments, of course the sky looks different to your eyes. I guess humans aren't really evolved to adapt to new skies, but if we'd stayed with what was familiar and comfortable, we'd never have left Earth, I guess."

"...no need start philosophising dude. The stars are different, it ain't that deep."

Wash huffed in amusement, and Tucker glanced at him. His silver streaked hair glinted in the planet-light.

"On a somewhat related note, what's your favourite night sky?" asked Wash, still staring straight upwards.

Tucker raised his eyebrow in confusion.

"Favourite planet to view the sky from, I mean. Like, Earth is a classic, there's so many well-known constellations."

"Dunno," grunted Tucker. "But Earth would be the boring choice, besides, you can barely see anything through the pollution."

Wash inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling.

"I did basic in Leonis-Minoris. It's a binary system, you know, so it wasn't dark planet-side too often. But when both stars set, boy did it get dark. Camp was out in the middle of nowhere away from the light pollution of the colonies, so you really could see everything, even the dust from the Milky Way. Any shooting star you saw was guaranteed to be a ship entering the atmosphere, though, so that took a little bit of the magic away."

"Sick," added Tucker.

"What about Blood Gulch?" asked Wash, twisting until he was on his side facing Tucker. "You were there, what, five years? You must have spent a lot of time looking up with nothing else to do."

Tucker couldn't help it- he burst into laughter. "Are _you_ being serious, dude? The sun _barely_ ever set there, and when it did it wasn't some huge event. Yeah, maybe there was a heap of stars because we were in the middle of goddamn nowhere, but none of us gave a shit either way; it was all about dealing with the stupidity and trying not to die of boredom on a daily basis."

Wash chuckled. "I forgot about that, although to be fair I only really skimmed that report before I visited. Did I ever tell you about Sarge's cardboard cutouts?"

"God, that's not even the worst thing Sarge did. One time his robot started a revolution with our tank at _the_ most inconvenient fucking time possible."

"Sounds familiar. Have you seen him gathering materials for his new army lately?"

Tucker groaned. "Not this again."

Wash chuckled, then laid his hand over Tucker's. They turned and grinned at each other, Wash's smile turning from amused to a familiar softness.

"Who knows- maybe your newfound appreciation for simple things like stars means that you've grown a bit since Blood Gulch."

Tucker looked into Wash's shadowed eyes.

"Maybe, yeah," he sighed.

"Yeah," smiled Wash.

"Yeah," interjected Caboose dreamily.

" _Caboose_ , I thought I told you to stay quiet!" snapped Tucker, jerking in the other direction. He had almost forgotten that his dumbass teammate was there, lying on his other side.

"I know, but you were all agreeing to something and I wanted to agree too!"

"Fucking hell, man," said Tucker, shaking his head. He wove his fingers more tightly in Wash's, settled onto his back again and looked back to the stars. The night was clear and revealed thousands upon thousands of tiny bright dots.

"Hey Tucker, which one of them is Chorus?" Caboose asked, pointing upwards.

Tucker groaned. Wash sniggered.

* * *

"You've been out there like five times already. What the fuck do you even do up there so late?" asked Grif, as he shovelled food into his mouth at the breakfast table like a starving man. "Are you taking those magazines and beating off all night?"

 _"That's gross, Grif,"_ yelled Carolina from across the table.

"No, asshole. I'm just taking some time to myself. Just lying there, looking up at the sky, thinking about stuff, taking in the view, ya'know."

Grif paused with a burrito halfway to his mouth. "Sounds like some girly shit, dude."

 _"Stop talking, Grif,"_ came Carolina's voice.

Tucker shrugged, taking a swig of his coffee. "It gets me away from you fuckwits, so it must be worth it."

* * *

They chose a spot near the lake to meet after dinner, all sitting in a circle in various stages of armour wear, from Caboose's pyjamas to Carolina's full suit (minus only helmet) and weapon lineup.

Tucker cleared his throat.

"Here ye, here ye! I call this band meeting to order. Judge Tucker, sex-god and your humble leader, presiding."

He banged a rock down on the ground like a gavel.

"You're not the leader, Tucker," said Grif, flat-toned. He rustled with the packet of M&Ms in his hand.

"Yeah, if anyone's the leader, that would have to be the lead _singer_ ," sung Carolina, drawing out the last word torturously long.

Tucker fought back the urge to grimace, and exchanged knowing a look with Grif. If only they had the balls to tell Carolina she wasn't that good of a singer. _If only._

"Anyway," said Carolina, "We don't have to decide that now, we'll have plenty of time to iron out the details later. Firstly, and maybe most importantly, we need to come up with a name."

"The Red Beatles," said Grif.

"Fuck no, Twenty-One Blues," shot back Tucker.

"Caboose and His Best Friends!" interjected Caboose excitedly, waving his arms.

"Also something we don't have to decide right now," conceded Carolina. "So we have all our instruments and know all our roles... so, uh, anything else we need to talk about?"

"Yeah, I have a question. Why the fuck are we out here again?" Grif huffed, gesturing around. "There's a perfectly good room with a perfectly good couch in the base and instead I gotta pull pebbles out my ass because Tucker has a hard on for nature suddenly?"

"Dude!" cried Tucker. "Artists draw inspiration from nature all the time. Just look at this shit." He gestured upwards, all three of his friends followed his hand. "You could write a thousand love songs looking at this."

The sky that night was on the more breathtaking end of Iris' spectrum- They had no need for any light source other than it, the light reflecting from the planet and the ocean of stars enveloping it enough to make the whole moon surface glow.

"You still haven't told me which one is Chorus yet, Tucker," Caboose said quietly.

"Boo hoo, nature's pretty, the sky's so sexy I wanna die, _waaaaah_ ," cried Grif pettily. "That's what you sound like, Tucker."

"Fuck off, red."

Carolina shook her head. "I mean, yeah's it's beautiful, Tucker, but we need to get back to band business now. Now, hear me out boys, and don't say anything until I'm finished- one word, _tassles-"_

Tucker had never suffered so much in his life as he did trying to swallow back a groan in that moment. He looked up.

* * *

"Do you miss Church?" Sarge asked gruffly, out of nowhere, not looking up from cleaning his gun.

Tucker shuffled, surprised and pensive. It was just the two of them, leaning up against their ramshackle base on the cusp of sunrise. A pale sky and dim stars stretched above them- either of them had spoken a word, both still shaking off sleep and a chill in the air.

Tucker swirled his coffee between his bare fingers.

"I don't know. Probably. Wasn't the first time he left, you know? I'm used to it."

Sarge grunted in acknowledgment and brought the barrel of his shot to eye level, peering down to check for blockages.

"He saved us all, in the end. This is probably the nicest thing I'll ever say about one of you Blues, but I'm gonna miss him."

Tucker swallowed. There was a tightness behind his eyes.

"Yeah," was all he said in reply.

* * *

" _Tucker..._ "

Tucker started from his doze at the sound.

 _"Tucker... ooooHHhhhh."_

He looked around, peering blearily through the darkness, the familiar landscape forming around him- outside on the rocky cliffside, he'd fallen asleep under the stars again. Not too unusual for him lately.

Something poked at his side, and he reached under the thin camp mattress he'd commandeered for stargazing, and pulled out a sharp rock, which was promptly thrown away.

 _"Tucker I am a ghoooost! Ooohhhhhh I am... scaryyyyyyy."_

Tucker sighed very audibly, rubbing at his eyes.

"Caboose, get your _fucking_ _ass_ back in this dimensional plane right now," he yelled into the night. "If I can hear you now that means you must have found a way back- so just come through before you're lost in the abyss for all eternity, or some shit."

There was a pause, then-

 _"Oooooooh. Scary ghost! Scarrryyyyyyyy!"_

Tucker was tired. He just wanted to go back to sleep.

"Come on dude. Wash is getting worried about you. Just come back."

Another silent beat.

 _"...okay. Sorry."_

"Good. And you're _not_ a ghost, okay? Don't say that."

With a grunt, Tucker rolled over. He shot a glance at the starry sky above him, smeared with wisps of clouds, before settling back in to sleep.

He swore he heard footsteps walking down the rocky path to the base as he drifted off.

* * *

It was muggy beyond all belief.

Instead of tossing all night, sweating through the sheets and disturbing Wash, Tucker opted for a the second option. He carefully jumped up, pulled some boxers on, grabbed his camp mattress and set up shop a little ways outside their jumbled-together base.

He lay with his arms folded under his head in the somewhat fresh night air, gazing straight up at the now familiar stars.

Tucker would never admit it to anyone around him, but he was enjoying his stargazing habit far more than he'd expected. If you'd told him a year ago he'd spent so many nights outside pondering stars, Tucker would have laughed his ass off.

But between the fire, the dinosaurs, the water park, the robots, the second fire, the dinosaur-robot war and having no one else to talk to but all his idiot friends, the peace of Iris at night and the twinkling of burning stars a thousand star systems away was a respite among chaos. It was kinda like his rock back in Blood Gulch, in that sense.

It wasn't every night (he wasn't nearly that sentimental, god), just every once in a while. He'd sneak off, maybe take Wash or anyone else who felt like it with him (which didn't happen often, not that he minded) and chill out away from the crazy everyday shit that went down when multi-coloured idiots all lived together on a moon in the middle of nowhere space.

Truth be told, he'd never been a fan of stars before- maybe there'd been more interest in the universe before it all became so commonplace (and dangerous), but cultural attitudes had changed. He hadn't joined the military to travel, mostly just to pick up hot military chicks and maybe fire a gun.

It was entirely possible he still wasn't a fan of stars, and was just trying to vainly recreate that initial moment of peace from the first night on Iris. Maybe he was a sappy bitch at heart. Who fucking knew?

All he knew was that when he lay down and looked up at night, things were kinda okay. Nothing was on fire, people weren't dying and his friends were all safe and asleep just down the hill.

It wouldn't stay that way forever, and the system's sunwould rise in a few hours, bringing new daily terrors. Grif could very well spike someone else's food with his Meth-Meth, Carolina could take another opportunity to 'practice' her 'singing' and Sarge was extremely likely to be continuing his impossible war against gravity as soon as he humanly could.

Anything was possible. They could be dragged into another galaxy-hopping adventure any day now, or Donut could succeed in burning the entire moon down, them along with it.

The future was up in the air, but at that moment, Tucker felt peace as he stared up at the twinkling stars, the warm air a comforting blanket to lull him back to sleep.


End file.
